Who We Are Together
by RavenGlare
Summary: A perhaps-not-so-typical story of brothers and tragedy. Isengard is not an easy place to grow, especially if you stick out. The attention of a master such as Saruman is not something anyone would strive for, but when you're something new and shiny in a place where shiny isn't particularly common, sometimes you just have to deal with the consequences. Being born is a bitch.
1. Chapter 1

**Foundations of stone**

It was a shot of energy, a bright flash, and then there was only darkness.

Virgin lungs started to convulse, trying desperately to drag their first breath past shut lips. A body drowning in its own birth; surrounded by the dark and wet that it had only ever known and yet could not understand.

The world shifted and started to tumble away. Limbs reached forward with strange fingers and broke a surface into a new kind of cold. The body followed without permission, unwillingly thrusting itself from the familiar dark into the unknown and unfathomable. Lungs tasted their first intake of stale air and choked. Dark fluid came forth from the mouth and nose and dripped from the strange veils of black on either side of the face. The body pulled itself out fully as if something else was moving it forwards and up until it stood on shaking legs.

Eyes blinked, trying to focus on this new plain of feeling. Air is cold and thick, ground is hard and wet.

Warmth. A grasp on the bottom of the leg. Reflexes turn violently to see the attacker: a hand coming from the same dark as this body had come. This body sends its own hand and reaches forward to pull and pull until another stood, staring as uncomprehending as this.

The next part came with little more warning than a small pin prick; as if popping a thin boundary holding back more that it could possibly have been holding. It brought forward an assault baring the first sensations of pain.

Swirling tendrils spread out across these new and fragile minds, tearing into the emptiness and filling it with blacks and reds. Whispers of so many words echoed through, bludgeoning and imprinting into the impressionable surfaces of thought. Walls were built within upon unstable foundations and with heavy stones. Sensations became so much more and less than confusion. Ugliness was all.

When the barrage stopped, it was as if a canvas that had once been white was hastily filled with violent colours and textures. The mind started to warm once more and recognize a sound surrounding the ears as a roar resonating from its own mouth. The roar stopped and the eyes began to unblur as the body slowly moved to straighten itself.

No, not "it"… the mind demands identity.

His eyes moved up and met those of the other whose eyes were just as clouded. They stood and faced each other once more. New thoughts festered.

Master. Home. Pain. Brothers.

They looked at each other with new understanding and each began to raise a hand, placing them on the other's chest.

"Brother." They growled in unison. The moment seemed to stretch on as they looked at one another, until finally they were dragged back by a harsh voice.

"Oi! You new lot, follow me."

They became suddenly aware that there were in fact more like them in this place. They stood in a large cavern, the floor filled with muddy holes that had been filled with the bodies of those now standing above them. There were about twenty newly birthed Uruk-hai that, without hesitation, began to follow the fat hunched Orc that had called to them. The two born from the same pit stuck close together as they were all marched down dark passages and instructed to line up against a stone wall at the side of a much taller cavern.

The two brothers were pulled aside roughly by the arm without protest; they were to submit to their master and this hunched, ill tempered, orc seemed to be the only one around so far. They were placed at the very end of the lineup and separated from the rest by a ways. They were all standing, completely still and staring straight forward when He entered.

They could all feel Him immediately. His power crushing any resistance from their minds and leaving them bare and unquestioning as to who He was. His white robes remained untainted by the filth that seemed to cling to every surface in this place and He seemed to radiate a cold light as He stood before them, above them, all around them. His words were like chains wrapping around every ounce of their concentration when He spoke.

"What are you?" His voice was cold and even.

The answer was unfaltering. "Fighting Uruk-hai."

"And whom do you serve?"

"Saruman." The name hissed and wormed its way aggressively out of each and every fanged mouth present.

The master nodded very slightly and started to walk towards the end of the line of bodies, continuing to speak about duties, ranks, and privileges that could be awarded if he was satisfied.

Most he passed over with no more than a glance, others he would stop and grasp their jaw between his thumb and forefinger examining them closely. There was one amongst them that had not fit whatever requirements this master had set and the result was loud, bloody, and long lasting, as those who had stood by quiet and unmoving moments before were instructed to take their first blood.

Saruman finally reached the end of the line and looked intently down on the two standing there.

"You may take them to be branded and get them working, pit master." He spoke without turning and the hunched orc barked an order to all the others to follow once again. The two brothers didn't move; held steady by the wizard's silent instruction.

He looked them over slowly and his eyes left a steady pressure wherever they wandered, making the two under his scrutiny want to squirm and remove themselves from his gaze. Such hopes were, of course, futile. He spoke once more, his voice quieted from its previously echoing volume, but now felt like distant thunder to them. "Do you know what you are?" He stepped back so that the two could be allowed to breathe once again and answer.

There was no hesitation in their response, "We are Uruk-hai, bred to obey and serve our master." They spoke in unison, their voices barely distinguishable from one another.

"Yes." His nod was almost unnoticeable and the brothers had a sudden feeling that they had missed something important, "However you are also something more. Something different." He paused again and looked into each pair of eyes, rendering them completely immovable. "Something I hope to learn from."

With this he lifted their two arms between them to rest together, wrist against wrist, forearm's one beside the other and they stayed. They could not have been moved even if they wanted to be. Fear tore at the brothers' minds as they wanted to speak, to beg their master for forgiveness from whatever disobedience they had insulted him with. Yet they could not speak. The grime that still lingered was wiped from their lower arms with a damp cloth that was then thrown away, leaving a freezing sensation on their skin.

Sauruman began to mutter strange words under his breath as his eyes closed and his clawed pale hands hovered, tensed, above their dark ones. As the wizard's words intensified, the Uruk's eyes rolled back into their skulls, faces going slack as, for the second time today, their minds were invaded. Some of the crude mental walls that had been created were now demolished, releasing an overflow of consciousness witch pooled and mingled. Suddenly they were not only aware of themselves, but of one another as their minds were shackled to each other.

Two pairs of eyes opened once more in shock and in unison and looked to their clenched fists resting against one another. When Sauruman spoke this time his voice was not just all around them, but within them and it seemed that if they were to open their mouth's it would simply come pouring forth.

"Taken on the same day, grown from the same womb, birthed again from the same pit," he drew forth a huge black knife and slowly cut down the center of one of their forearms, "The first twins of Isengard," then he repeated on the other's arm. "There is much promise in you."

Their black blood seeped down the sides of their arms, meeting and mixing in the trench formed by their skin between them and as it met, it was as if their pain was multiplied. They then felt, not only their own pain, but each other's.

_End Flashback. _

The prisoner cart rolled over a particularly large stone, throwing Akash off of the bench he had been dozing on and onto Bug where he was sitting on the floor.

"Ah you great bloody sod! I was telling a story!" Bug fought to push his brother off of him as the latter did the same, ending them both in a tangle of body parts and a sour mood.

Targus laughed and raised his legs off the floor to avoid having his toes crushed by any falling Uruk bodies. "That he was, Akash." He doubted either of them could actually hear him over the grunts and curses they were both spewing, but honestly, that had never stopped him before. "I had no idea you two had such a time of it. No wonder you're such assholes."


	2. Chapter 2

**A Knife in the Dark**

The cart rocked steadily back and forth in a rhythm the three occupants had, by this point in time, grown accustomed to. The sun shone above them through the bars of their cage and they knew that if they misbehaved, the sun wouldn't be the only thing coming through those bars. On either side there were three armed guards atop great horses, and each had a long menacing looking spear at hand. Inside the cart was a hard wooden floor furnished with two identical wooden benches on either side. The cart smelled of sweat and piss. Well… really, the three people inside of it smelled like sweat and piss.

Targus sat on one bench, his bound hands resting on his knees, legs pulled up so he could lean back against the front of the cage. Akash lay across from him on the second bench, feet resting up against the wall of bars, one arm behind his head and the other resting on his chest. Bug sat cross-legged on the floor between them watching the dirt road trail out behind.

"You know, I've always wondered," Targus said, turning away from a particularly fascinating bit of sleeve he had been fiddling with, to look at Bug. "And it does seem like an appropriate time to ask after what you've just been telling me, what with your birth and you being magicked and all. It seemed that the White Wizard had a bit of stock in you, yeah? You were his new toys and all. Great bloody bastard he was, by the way, never liked him. Not even before everyone knew about his doings. Never met him myself a'course, just-"

"Ask the fucking Question, Targus." Akash said bluntly without opening his eyes.

"Right…" Targus blinked with embarrassment at being caught rambling before going back to his fiddling. "The two 'uh you found yourselves stuck with some rather unfortunate names, didn't you?"

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><p>It seemed to take ages for the brothers to regain their breath after Saurman's spell was cast. They walked in a haze behind the wizard, unknowing and unable to care about their destination. The ache in their arms seemed to be slowly spreading upwards like a poison and it was nearly the only thing that they could be bothered to notice.<p>

After ages and ages - or so it seemed - of walking they eventually made it to another cavern where their brothers from before stood again in a line. Though now they stood within a trench that rose up to their knees, and were surrounded by smaller hunched Orcs, some of which held great wooden buckets and were throwing the contents at the Uruk-hai. The dark liquid from their birth was washed away to drain from one end of the trench, leaving the Uruk's shivering and completely naked.

Saruman stopped at the entrance of this Cavern and waited for the Pitmaster to hurry over and bow.

"You may take these two. Wash them, brand them, and name them well, Pitmaster. They will not start work just yet, however." He looked over one shoulder to scrutinize the dazed looking Uruk's at his back. "They will be of little use until they are rested."

A "Yes, Master" was uttered in short regard and then the wizard was gone, leaving the twins to many rough hands that dragged their unresisting bodies into the trench with their brothers. It was the freezing cold brackish water that woke them from their distant state as it was hurled over their bodies.

Next thing they knew, the Pitmaster was standing before them with a very hot looking rod of metal with a shape, crudely smithed onto the end of it.

"Look lively, lads. This'll sting a bit." He chuckled darkly and looked to his side where another bucket wielding orc stood. They nodded to one another and then the brand was pressed into the first brother's chest just below the collarbone. He didn't roar. This pain was mediocre compared to ones already endured this day. His eyes were squeezed shut as tight as they could be as he hissed and spat through his teeth. Fists clenched and un-clenched at his side. The brand burned through layers of skin, leaving a deep and permanent mark.

When the brand was withdrawn he slumped and gasped before being jolted again by another bucket of cold water. He stood, breathing heavily, his wet curtains of hair covering his hanging head and relieved expression.

The second brother's eyes widened when the brand was switched out with a freshly heated one and the Pitmaster came to stand before him. His own breathing began to quicken and a growl was growing within his chest. He stood, tensed, fists clenched, staring into the Pitmaster's eyes with a warning. The fat orc's mouth twitched at the corners and he looked behind the Uruk's back and nodded.

When many arms came from behind to grab the brother and hold him steady, a roar broke forth and he began to struggle without reservation. He fought harder still as the Pitmaster moved forward with the brand and when it touched his skin the group of small orcs that had a hold of him were shaken by his fury. The brand was withdrawn as quickly as possible to cause as little damage as possible to the mark left behind on the chest of the gnashing and thrashing Uruk. He seemed to be trying as hard as he possibly could to reach anything he could with his fangs. This was the first time the brother had been able to display his rage to thoroughly and if felt good rushing hot through his veins, blocking out the pain of the fresh burn on his chest.

"Release him." The Pitmaster said with authority.

The ones that he addressed faltered in their doubt, before releasing their holds cautiously and jumping out of harms reach as quick as they could. The previously restrained Uruk had no time to pounce before the cold water was thrown in his face, followed by a thick meaty fist. The hit took the fight out of him easily and he stood in another daze, his anger forgotten with his surprise. Next thing he knew, his chin was in a vice-like grip and he was being forced to look into the Pitmaster's red eyes and pudgy face.

"I'm not s'posed to whip yeh lil bastards on the first day, but yeh had better learn who yer enemies are and learn it quick. Ya hear?" He looked over the Uruk's face before stepping back once again. The brother huffed in contempt, but did not move to attack. "What d'yeh figure, Gorosh, eh? Master wants these two ta be named special."

A little orc with a clever face and a missing ear came up to stand at the Pitmaster's side and snickered at the brothers. "Can hardly tell the whelps apart, Pitmaster. Give them both the same name for all the good it'll do." He laughed a high piercing laugh, soon joined by the Pitmaster's chuckle.

"Akash," He pointed a clawed finger at the seething brother in front of him, "and Bug." And then to the concerned brother standing at his side. "May s'well be sharin a name between yeh." He crossed his thick arms over his chest and huffed, looking at the two as if he was profoundly proud of the names he'd come up with. "Take these two down to the locks, send the rest of 'em up to trainin." He spoke sideways to Gorosh who began barking the orders over, loud enough for the rest of the many minions scurrying about to hear.

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><p>Akash shook the pushy hands from his arms before they could thrust him into the hall and turned just in time to see Bug being thrown into him. The journey from the branding chamber had been tense and long, ending in a low ceilinged room with many close ended halls attached to it. They now stood on what had to be the wrong side of the door to one of these halls. Their feeling was confirmed when one of the little orcs swung the door - more a barred gate - closed leaving only the brothers inside. Akash swiftly shoved Bug off of him and rushed to the bars, shaking them and hissing.<p>

"What are you doing?" He growled at the little group that had escorted and caged them. The small party chuckled at him harshly, a sound that he was realizing was going to be something he'd have to get used to hearing.

"Jus tuckin you, lil' gems in, is all." An ugly bastard with more piercings on his brow than he had yellow rotten teeth in his mouth sidled up close to where Akash's face was pressed against the bars. "Rest up," He spat at the foot of the door and sneered, "Muts."

Akash could only stand behind the bars seething and growl at the many crooked backs as they walked away cackling.

"Bug..." Bug tested the name on his tongue. His name. Akash turned around to face his brother. He was staring at his hands, turning them over, running a clawed digit over the raw and open cut on his forearm. He looked up as if he was once again opening his eyes for the first time. "I am Bug."

Bug began looking around the empty hall they were locked in. There were bunks carved into the dark stone walls on all sides, three on top on another, each filled with a pitifully thin layer of dirty looking straw. The floor was composed of a pale dirt, seemingly compressed by many heavy feet, but an area in the center of the room appeared to have been turned up and was darker than the rest.

Akash sighed heavily and looked down to the brand on his chest. It looked like a circle that had been twisted in the center and a box rested over the space were the circle met itself. It was raw and it stung, a sharp deep pain instead of the dulling throbbing pain in his arm. Another wave of anger hit him and he had to breathe deep to try and push it away.

"Akash." He said. He looked up once again and met his brother's eyes.

"You are Akash." Bug said quietly.

Akash hit his chest with a closed fist, almost an instinctual action and nodded. "Aye."

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><p><strong>AN: I'm really sorry that this too for freaking ever. My sincere apologies to anyone interested in following this story, but it's probably going to happen often... I uh... I don't have a whole lot of spare time.**

**Thanks a lot for reading! Drop me a review, constructive criticism is welcome!**


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